


Night Shift

by ElderofAvonlea



Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Married Shirbert, bed sharing, lots of teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-29 18:26:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20800964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElderofAvonlea/pseuds/ElderofAvonlea
Summary: Gilbert has to get up to work the night shift at the hospital.Basically just an excuse to write something cute and domestic.





	Night Shift

_Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep._

Gilbert groaned as the incessant noise shattered against the quiet stillness of the room.

He felt for his phone, reaching awkwardly into the dark beside him, his palm batting against the air repeatedly before landing against the polished surface of the side table. The back of his hand brushed against plastic and glass; the touch followed by the clatter of frames against the hardwood floor. He groaned again.

Propping himself up on his elbow, he blinked into the dimness. Orange light fell in rows across the bedspread, the last rays of the setting sun splitting between the slats of the blinds over the window. He reached for his phone.

He held it up to his face, the tip of his nose nearly brushing the screen as his eyes struggled to focus. Squinting into the blue light, he tapped the stop button with his thumb and the bedroom fell back into silence.

His arm falling heavily against the mattress, he dropped the phone into the covers at his side.

Shimmying back under the blankets, he pulled the bedspread tight around his shoulders. He blew out a deep sigh as he settled into the mattress, beckoning sleep to take hold of him once more.

“Babe.”

A soft voice whispered to him, a light touch caressing his cheek. Her thumb brushed gently over his skin, keeping time with the chirp of the crickets humming outside below the windowsill.

A soft moan slipped from his lips.

Anne let out an amused breath, her grey eyes tracing the curve of her husband’s jaw in the low light. It was slack, his nose burrowing into the pillowcase as he fell back into the world of dreams. His dark curls stuck out in all directions against his pale brow, the thick lashes lining his lids fluttering slightly.

She paused in her caress, her fingers falling away from his cheek.

Gilbert felt the mattress shift beside him as Anne moved to get up, the metal bedframe groaning beneath her weight.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he murmured, reaching out for her beside him. His long arm ensnared her waist easily, his fingers splaying against her stomach. She squealed as he dragged her back against him.

Her small frame fit perfectly within the crook of his body, her toes reaching only far enough to trail along his calves as they lay intertwined.

He buried his face in the tangle of hair gathered at the back of her neck, taking in a deep breath that smelled of apple blossoms and home.

Anne twisted in his arms to face him, the bridge of her nose tucking under his chin, the stubble there rough against her freckles.

“I was going to make coffee,” she said, her fingers tracing looping patterns against his bare chest.

“Mmm, but you don’t drink coffee,” he said, the words muffled against her brows and followed by a light kiss between them.

“Yeah, but _you_ do.” Her finger paused to press pointedly against his chest.

Pulling back, she looked up at him, her red tangles dragging against the sheet. He squinted back at her with one eye half-opened, his dark irises glistening obsidian in the dim light.

“Mmm,” he murmured, capitulating.

He relinquished her from the circle of his arm, his fingers trailing against the thin fabric of the old t-shirt she wore. Though he couldn’t make it out in the deepening dusk, he knew Alberta was scrawled across the front, the print peeling away after too many washes.

He rolled over onto his back as she disentangled her legs from his.

“Go get dressed,” she instructed, leaning over him to peck his lips. “And brush your teeth. You’ve got morning breath.”

He shot her a dirty look.

She smiled at him, her grey eyes sparkling in the shadows. Her face falling out of focus as she moved away from him, he imagined how her nose must be scrunched up, as it always was when she teased him. Damn his eyesight for making him miss that adorable look.

Her bare feet hovered over the hardwood, anticipating the chill of the floorboards against her skin. Gingerly, she pushed herself up off the bed, the quick pitter patter of her steps across the cold room bringing an affectionate smile to Gilbert’s lips.

When she was gone, having disappeared into the hall, he let out another sigh and forced his eyes open.

* * *

Ten minutes later, Gilbert entered the kitchen, his tennis shoes squeaking against the linoleum tiles. A cotton dress shirt crisscrossed with wrinkles hugged his slender frame, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing strong forearms. Dark wash jeans, tortoise shell glasses, and partially tamed curls completed the look.

Anne sat at the island; her red hair gathered in a knot atop her head. Her lids drooped as she bobbed a tea bag up and down between her fingers, her chin resting in the palm of her other hand. Steam curled into the air from the mug in front of her.

“Can you put more tea on the list? This is the last bag.”

Gilbert nodded, pausing by a notepad on the counter to scribble it down. Setting the pen back down, he continued towards the sink, pulling his thermos from where it sat upside down in the dish rack. A few more shuffled steps and he was pulling the carafe from the coffee maker, a few stray drops of the brown liquid spitting against the bottom heating pad.

He filled the thermos and placed the carafe back, glancing at the time on the microwave as he moved.

Shit. He was going to be late.

Anne arched a brow at him, her grey eyes following his gaze to the glowing digital display.

“There are lives at stake, Blythe,” she teased, the string of the tea bag still between her fingers.

He rolled his eyes, twisting the cap closed on the thermos and setting it on the counter beside him.

“You don’t have to remind me,” he said with little humor in his tone and pressing a kiss against her forehead.

Anne gave a small sigh, her brows pulling together as she looked him over.

“You’ve got your scrubs?”

“There’s a clean set at the hospital.”

Anne nodded, the wrinkle in her brows smoothing.

They lingered there; Anne in her seat at the island, toes swaying inches above the floor, and Gilbert stood beside her, wishing dearly that he could scoop her up in his arms and carry her back to bed.

The faint scent of chamomile drifted into the still air between them.

“I hate when you have to work nights,” Anne whispered as she peered into the amber liquid in her mug. A small pout turned down the corners of her mouth.

“I know, me too. But it won’t be forever,” he promised, his hand coming up to cup her face.

She leaned into his touch, eyes closing as his thumb brushed against her cheek bone.

“I’d better go,” he said softly after a few quiet moments had passed.

Anne nodded again, resigned, pushing away from the counter and getting to her feet. She went to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and twisting her fingers in his shirt.

Gilbert folded himself around her, planting a kiss on the top of her head.

Anne held him to her, her chest tightening at the thought of him walking out the door and leaving her to sleep alone again.

She leaned up, stretching on her toes to kiss him briefly.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Anne let her arms fall to her sides, releasing him from her embrace. He ran his palm against her arm reassuringly, then stepped away towards the door. With a final smile and a nod, he left, his footsteps joining with the noise of the night.

Anne padded back to the bedroom, fingers gripping her elbows.

The room was darker now that night had truly fallen, the shadows occupying the corners growing to engulf the entire room. The sheets on the bed lay twisted in a heap, the pillows haphazard.

Toes curled against the cold floor, she walked around the bed to slide beneath the covers on his side. Burying her nose in his pillow, she breathed in the smell of him and imagined that he was there beside her.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> Let me know what you thought! I love to hear from you all! 
> 
> If you enjoyed this and want to see something specific from me, drop a request in the comments or shoot me an ask on tumblr @elderofavonlea! I don't have a lot of time on my hands, but I'll always make time to write some shirbert haha.


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